Potion 99
by mishka jayne
Summary: Completed oneshot. Harry discovers that yes, besides the fact that he can actually brew, sometimes you can cure your problems with a small bottle. Slash hints within.


Harry sat alone on his bed in the Gryffindor sixth year dormitory. It was the tenth night in a row that his latest nightmare had unfortunately visited him, leaving him feeling weak, out of breath and more than just a little worried at what his subconscious was trying to say. He peered into the darkness, listening to the not so gentle snores of his sleeping dorm mates, desperately hoping that his silencing charms had held up. The last thing he needed was a hysterical Ron convinced that he'd been receiving visions from Voldemort again.

To be perfectly honest, Harry was still a little depressed over Sirius' recent death. Moony had given Harry a copy of Sirius will, stating that he considered Harry to be more like a son who would make him proud, no matter what. He had also left them both a key for joint access to his vault, which contained the entire Black fortune. Despite this grand gesture, Harry had withdrawn from his housemates and his friends, spending the majority of the time by him self, reading. On the Hogwarts Express he'd ended his petty, childish dispute with Draco Malfoy, apologised to Snape straight after the welcoming feast and was now beginning to form tentative relationships with them. The special treatment he received and Ron and Hermione annoyed him to heights that Malfoy and Snape had rarely ever achieved before. He still, if not more so than he used to, hated himself – the cursed freak, the 'Golden Gryffindor', the prophesised boy-who-lived-and-wouldn't-die. And then to cap it all off there were the latest dreams……

Harry would be sitting happily between Sirius and Remus, across from Hermione and the Weasleys in Grimmuald place. Ron and Hermione would be arguing while holding hands under the table with Remus and Sirius looking at each other across Harry's head, smirking at their poorly kept secret. Harry would stand up and address the room ready to open his soul and tell the ones he loved a secret, even though it wasn't a really big deal to him. Instead of the understanding, pride and acceptance that he had been hoping for, all hell would break loose. Ron and Mrs Weasley would start screaming in unison at the top of their lungs; Hermione and Ginny get up in disgust and leave, declaring their friendship over. The twins would silently grab a hold of him, allowing Sirius and Remus let loose with a stream of hexes, curses while glaring disapprovingly and insulting him. Then he'd jump to Hogwarts, where Harry would be chained to the head table in the great hall. Voldemort and his Death Eaters would be constantly be casting 'crucio' and other varied dark curses, laughing manically while his love threw insults and sneered in disgust, telling Harry that he deserved it for being a true freak.. Snape would be rolling on the floor, crying with laughter, while Dumbledore would calmly look on, his eyes twinkling insanely the whole time.

Harry found it rather odd that in a society where inter-species relationships were tolerated, that wizards would be so violently against other relationships. As unusual as it was in the Muggle world, it was virtually unheard of in the wizarding world. Harry hadn't even been able to find one single case ever mentioned which didn't end in disaster, which in his mind further cemented his stature as a freak.

Sighing, Harry lay back down. According to what he'd read, telling his friends was an option he definitely didn't want to consider, heaven forbid the Dursleys. Crawling over to his trunk, Harry lifted the lid and looked inside at all of the girl's gear he'd purchased in a trip to muggle London during the past summer. Back then it had been the perfect escape from his life, something he enjoyed, enabling him to work through the pain of Sirius' passing. Silently he slipped on a pleated pink mini skirt and a white peasant blouse, instantly claming down.

"Wish I could wear this kind of gear all the time, but I can't," Harry whispered to the darkness. "I can just see the headlines. Rita Skeeter would have a field day with this. I'd be the Fag-who-lived, cross-dressing freak-show extraordinaire. I'd rather be handed over to Voldermort first."

Sighing deeply, Harry flopped back onto his stomach and hugged his pillow. "Sirius, I wish you were here. You'd know what to do. It'd be so much easier if I were a girl – no one would raise a brow at me having a boyfriend, my clothes - plus old Voldermort would never see it coming. If only it were so simple..." Jumping up Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and a fresh robe, hastily pulling them both over his head. Shaking his head at the obviousness of the solution, he sprinted off for the library.

Ron groggily entered the common room the next morning to discover a bright and smiling Harry. Harry, feeling all refreshed despite his long, successful night's research in the restricted section, bounced over to Ron and kissed him.

"Are you all right mate? Harry?"

Harry practically beamed at Ron and shrugged his shoulders. Ron wrinkled his brow in confusion, trying to figure out this new twist in Harry's mood swing cycle. Harry twisted out of the Ron's grip, giving him a brief flash of ankle socks, bare legs and pink skirt. Frowning, Ron grabbed Harry's wrist, dragging him off to the great hall.

"Breakfast first, and then we'll talk. Man, you're acting weird today. What's with you anyway, and what the hell are you wearing?"

Scowling at the redhead, Harry flopped down on the bench and proceeded to prod at the food Hermione had piled on a plate for him when he'd entered the hall.

"Nothing," Harry mumbled, ignoring the disapproving look Hermione shot his way over her bowl.

"Nothing Harry, really," she drawled sarcastically. "Ron, what has he done this time?"

"Wehll, youh see," Ron said around his mouthful of food.

"Ron, that's simply disgusting," Hermione exclaimed. "How many times do I have to tell you not to talk until you're done eating you food. I refuse to go out with a slob!"

"Monie," Ron grumbled, swallowing his mouthful, "Honestly, enough already. The way I eat is perfectly fine, isn't it Harry. Harry?" Ron looked over to see Harry's seat empty, his full plate abandoned. "Now look what you've done Hermione."

"What I've done, it's more like what you've done," Hermione mumbled, dragging Ron out of his seat. "We have class in 10 minutes, we'll just have to see him there and hope that you haven't done too much damage."

"Me?" Ron squeaked in protest, tossing two blueberry muffins into his bag as they left. "How can you say that? Harry's me best mate. You're so, so…" he spluttered out, lost for words.

"I'm what?" Hermione asked with a sly smile. Ron grinned back and dragged her into a nearby classroom.

"Perfect," he whispered, planting a kiss on her lips.

"You too," Hermione giggled into the front of Ron's robes. After a couple of minutes spent kissing each other, Hermione looked up into Ron's face. "What were we arguing about again?"

"No idea," Ron replied, glancing at his watch. "Bloody hell. We'd better run unless we fancy being late for McGonagall's lesson." Together they grabbed their bags and sprinted to their first class.

Harry retired early that evening, deciding to sneak out once he could hear everyone snoring. He had found a combined potion and incantation that would do the trick during the night before, and as fate would have it, Zabini's accident had provided him with the perfect opportunity to 'liberate' the required ingredients from Snapes' storage cupboard. Throwing off his robe, Harry quietly chuckled when he removed his robe and realised that he'd been wearing that pink skirt and blouse all day and that no one noticed, before proceeding to set up the gold cauldron on Snape's desk.

Harry found that the second required potion, unlike the first which he thankfully found hidden in the back of Snape's expansive cupboards, was surprisingly quick and simple to make, even if the ingredients were unusually rare. It required two teaspoons of blue gum sap and twenty five grams of hand powdered Yowie bone on top of the six crushed Fairy wings soaked in one cup of Thestral blood to complete the change from male to female. By the time he'd completed the potion; Harry was coated in a fine sheen of sweat from stirring the cauldron 60 times, alternating direction every seventh stir with a quartz stirring rod liberally coated in his own blood. Snatching up both the vials in his left hand, Harry began the lengthy incantation. He muttered furiously under his breath while swishing his wand in complex patterns, until a tingling sensation spread throughout his body. Finishing the spell, he quickly downed the two vials, not noticing that he was glowing in the dimly lit dungeon. Harry had just finished cleaning up when he collapsed in pain on the dungeon floor, still clutching the vials and parchment as he passed out.

Harry jolted as he heard a gentle 'click', gasps and footsteps hurrying in his direction as he groggily peered into the gloomy room. Still half asleep, Harry tired to remember what had happened the night before to make him feel as though he'd been run over by a Hippogriff being chased by a Hungarian Horntail.

"Sir – I think you should get over here," a mysterious voice croaked out while a warm, pale hand was gently laid against his throat.

Harry could hear Snape's voice in the distance snapping something or other. Realising that he was being scooped up into strong arms, Harry relaxed, burying his face in the soft fabric of the strangers robe. Looking down, he caught a glimpse his hands. _Shit,_ he thought to him self, gazing at the bloody glass embedded in the palms, _I crushed the vials_. The last thing he saw before he was carried out the door was Snape's distressed expression as he declared that the lesson was 'cancelled', before swooping out of the dungeons after him before the students had time to get a good look at who was being carried away...

Wincing at a sudden bright light, Harry felt himself being gently deposited on a bed as Madame Pomfrey noisily made her way over, exclaiming at the sight of him there.

"Now hold still dearie and keep your eyes closed while I check your injuries. You two," she snapped, turning around to the two Slytherin's who were standing by, "you can wait over there until I've finished my examination."

Harry tensed up as Pomfrey's spell crackled over the surface of his skin, impatient to get it all over. Pomfrey began muttering under her breath about 'poor girls' while gently removing the glass from his hands.

"You poor, poor darling. Here, drink this," she said, holding a vial to Harry's lips. "You seem familiar, but I can't seem to pin who you are." She brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Wait here while I get Professor Snape."

_Girl,_ Harry thought, sighing deeply and set his mind back to last night and his new injuries. _Girl,_ _why would Pomfrey think I'm a girl…..was I hexed?_ He was interrupted out of his thoughts by Pomfrey's return.

"She's a lucky one, Professor Snape," Pomfrey announced. "Besides the glass in her palms, and the light bruising on her breasts and genital area and evidence of malnutrition, she seems to be perfectly fine."

"It wasn't rape then?" Snape asked.

"Attempted, maybe, but you'll have to ask her. I'll leave you two alone with her, as her Head of House and Prefect you should be able to get to the bottom of this." Pomfreys heals clicked back over to Harry. "It's ok sweetie, you can open your eyes now. I'll leave you with Professor Snape here to speak with you while I go and attend to another patient."

Harry heard the rustle of Snapes robes as he moved across the room. "Miss?" he asked, laying a hand gently on his shoulder, "I'm sorry but I have to ask this. Did someone try to rape you?"

_Rape._ Harry momentarily panicked he hurriedly ran through his memories. Opening his mouth, he was barely able to croak out "No."

A large sigh of relief went through the room as Harry gingerly propped himself up on his pillow.

"Which house are you in?" Snape asked, scrutinising Harry's face, "You look familiar, but I know your not a Slythierin."

"Ravenclaw perhaps," came another voice as a tall student shuffled in the shadows.

Harry looked down into his lap, gazing at his hands. _Pomfrey mentioned that the glass came from a vial, so it must have been a potion then, but what would make my hands look slimmer and leave Snape and Pomfrey thinking that I'm a ..._

"The Potion," Harry gasped, wincing as he ran a hand though his hair, an awed look flitting across his face. "Success rate almost non existent," Harry muttered softly, gazing in wonder at his long, inky black ringlets. "That means that the Yowie bone and the blue gum sap reacted perfectly with the Fairy wings and Thestral blood, and the incantation was recited correctly. I don't believe it – I made a perfect potion. I've done it." Harry snapped his head up and threw his arms over his head in victory. "I"VE DONE IT!"

"Incantation, yowie bone, thestraL BLOOD?" Snape half yelled, somewhat puzzled. "WHAT have you done? Explain your self now," he spat out, crossing his arms and fixing Harry with a glare.

Gulping, Harry lowered his arms and tidied his blouse. Trying to ignore the blush creeping up his face, Harry brushed his hair out of his face while gathering himself for his impending doom.

"You see sir, um, it's a long story, and, well, umm, I…."

"Potter?"

Harry's head snapped up as Snapes eyes searched his forehead then widened. The room's forgotten third occupant stepped forward to reveal….

"Ma… Malfoy," Harry gasped, looking back and forth between the pair's stunned expressions. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit," Harry began muttering, slowly rocking back and forth. "Please don't kill me, I didn't …., that is … I, don't, I, I …"

"Potter," Snape snapped, having recovered first. He withdrew his wand. "You either tell me what you've done to yourself this time in your stupidity, or I find out the other way. And you know I don't mean Veritasatum. Now talk."

Silence descended on the room as Snape and Malfoy stood there, mouths agape at what they'd just herd. Both had their view of Harry completely shattered. Harry was curled up on the bed with his knees pulled up under the blankets, shaking, waiting for the laughter and scathing remarks. All that came was the twin thumps as Snape collapsed in his chair and Malfoy on the end of the bed. Harry had told them everything – from his abusive home life to the pressures of the Wizarding world. Harry spoke about the much hated 'golden-boy' façade, betrayals and deaths of those he loved. Then Harry talked about the potion, informing them in a dry monotone why he did it, and how he carried it out.

Malfoy looked up, eyes brimming with tears, locking them with Snape. "Did you know?"

Snape simply shook his head, turning back to look at Harry again. "Harry," he asked softly, "why didn't you tell anyone? Surely you could have spoken to Mr Weasly and Miss Granger?"

"You've got to be kidding – Ron and Hermione?" Harry broke down into bitter laughter. "They wouldn't understand a thing. They'd only lecture me on how 'ungrateful' I am, and be convinced that I was making it all up. Being as caught up in a relationship as they are, they would have dumped me and spread my secrets all around the school, leaving me locked up in St Mungo's for sure. And that's before I loose it and tell them exactly why I don't want a girlfriend and especially don't want to date Ginny."

"You know, he's right. That'd be pretty close to what I'd expect their reactions to be too," Malfoy muttered, scowling at the mere thought. "What do you mean, don't want a girlfriend, Potter? What about that Ravenclaw chick?"

Snape stretched over and placed his hand comfortingly onto Harry's shoulder. Nodding slowly, Harry replied "Well, to put it plainly, I still have the same preferences, but now if I were to date, no one would blink an eye lid at my choice of partner."

Draco just stood there, blinking with his head tilted to the left. "Oh," Draco exhaled softly when he caught on, staring into Harry's eyes. Snape simple gave Harry's shoulder a squeezed, then got up.

"This isn't reversible, is it?" Harry simply shook his head. "Ah, well. I'll tell Dumbledore that this was a potions accident then. I'll see you in the Great hall for lunch."

Taking in Harry's still sad face, Malfoy exclaimed "Hey look on the bright side. Not only are you gorgeous and dating Hogwarts most popular bachelor, but old Voldie won't know what hit him."

Harry looked over at Snape's retreating back and started giggling madly. "Hey, wait a minute. Since when have I been dating anyone?"

"Since now" Draco grinned back, pulling a ring off his hand and placing it on Harry's. "Won't you go out with me, Harry dearest." Striking a melodramatic pose, he added, "Please, I'm begging you, save me from the horror that is Pansy."

Laughing, Harry replied "I agree, noble sir that no man deserves to deal with such an unspeakable horror. I accept." Helping Draco off the bed, Harry asked, "You aren't going to leave me when we get to the hall, are you?"

"What, and let you have all the fun confronting those 'Griffindorks' alone. I don't think so. You'll have to do better than that to get rid of me, my dearest." Draco leaned down to peck Harry's scar. "I've finally got you, and I'm not giving you up for anything, you hear?"

Harry stared up into Draco's eyes. "Do you really mean that?"

"I do," Draco whispered, smirking when Harry melted into his arms. Beaming, he turned and swung Harry up, carrying her out the door. "Enough with the emotional stuff already, let's save it for the Weasel and co." Laughing, he set Harry down in the corridor where they set off. Harry smiled, with Draco's arm around her waist and the memory of Snape's support she felt calm, loved and happy for the first time in years.


End file.
